Seasonal Affection
by tastingstarsinchampagne
Summary: CP Coulter's Dalton!Verse. Juliark. Originally a prompt from charliethelessfamous. Julian has always meant something to Clark Sawyer. Perhaps a dash of hair dye and an icy event can change something between the two.  I'm terrible at summaries, aren't I?
1. Introduction

**_Came from a conversation with my friend Charlie, and evolved into something with multi-chapters :) I hope you enjoy! I own nothing; characters are the fantastical CP Coulter's._**

Sunday nights were always rather depressing for Clark Sawyer. He always got that 'Monday morning' feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he hated it with a passion. Sunday nights meant staying in his trailer and getting ready for the week of work Sunday nights meant going to sleep early and waking up even earlier the next day. Sunday nights meant no midnight conversations with Julian. And call Clark sentimental, but he really missed their heart-to-hearts in his trailer. Clark frowned. Yeah, he hated Sunday nights. The blond absent-mindedly turned over the page of his magazine; the very magazine that happened to contain shirtless pictures of the younger actor - but that had absolutely nothing to do with why Clark had bought it. He was very interested in… easy-cook recipes… and knitting patterns. There was the sound of a door opening, and Clark glanced up briefly from the magazine to see Julian Larson entering the trailer. "Hey, J," he murmured, raising a hand before looking back down to his magazine. It was usual for the brunet to- Wait. Brunet. Clark looked up so quickly he could have sworn he heard his neck crack. Sure enough, he was right.

"Julian… Your hair's turned pink!"

The former brunet pulled off his sunglasses as he collapsed into the sofa next to Clark and gave the blond a withering look. "Oh, wow! I hadn't noticed," he drawled, sarcasm dripping from his words. "I hate it. This is terrible. This stupid, stupid role…" He gestured angrily with his hands, frowning. "I don't understand why I had to have this done today. I mean, the flight's tomorrow evening; why did I need to have this – " Angry hand gestures towards his hot pink hair. "- done today?" Clark bit back a laugh.

"I think," the older actor paused, considering his words. "…you look wonderful." His heart skipped a beat. Internally, he was yelling; "STOP. STOP, YOU'VE GONE TOO FAR. STOP BEFORE YOU TELL HIM EVERYTHING!" But his mouth kept going. "I think it goes beautifully with your skin tone, and I think the way it's a warmer pink, rather than neon, really works well with your eyes. You look like autumn. That's my favourite season," he rambled on, before realising how much he'd said and turning bright red while staring furiously at the magazine. The pink-haired boy in front of him froze, before slowly taking the magazine from Clark, and moving closer to him. His hand touched the blond's pale cheek, and tilted his head up so that caramel eyes met peppermint. They were so close now that when Julian let out a tiny whisper of air, and - true to his autumnal appearance - it ruffled Clark's fringe like a warm breeze in October. The silence surrounding the two actors was not an uncomfortable one; it was tense, yes, but it was not awkward. It was simply as though somebody had paused time. And they were stuck, staring into the other's eyes. As cliché as it was, Clark found he couldn't turn away. Julian had mesmerized him. It was exactly like a scene from a romantic movie. And sure enough, the ex-brunet's eyelashes fluttered gently closed, and they simultaneously moved towards each other, lips meeting gently. It lasted mere seconds, but that was all they needed. Julian pulled away. He stood, shocked, in the centre of the room. He shook his head, pink waves falling over his eyes gently. "I… need to sort my head out," Julian choked. Blue eyes grew dull as Clark realized why the rose haired boy had pulled away. He stood, turned on his heel and headed straight to his room. But before he could break down, he took one look at Julian and uttered a solitary word.

"Leave."

The pink haired boy needed no other instructions - he fled from the trailer instantly. And Clark had never felt worse.


	2. Fire and Ice

**Charlie, I'm so sorry it took so long! I own nothing; characters are the magical CP Coulter's.**

Julian ran. He ran as fast as he could. Out of Clark's trailer, past Alicia's, past Nathan's, past Patrick and Cameron – who tried to stop him but failed -, past the set they'd been filming on. He ran away, leaving the blond boy behind, broken-hearted and utterly confused. The Stuart came to a halt once he was outside of the filming lot. He'd run far enough away not to be followed, and yet not far enough to be able to think properly. So he began to walk. And he kept walking for what felt like hours, until he reached a little coffee shop in the centre of a nearby village. As Julian walked into the shop, he pulled out his sunglasses and put them on, though he saw no real point; Julian Larson was a brunet. He… was not. The actor covered his confusion with a façade of 'Everything is OK' and slumped onto a chair in a corner, laying his head down on his arms, which were resting on the table top. He closed his eyes, but all he could see were those piercingly innocent peppermint ones, gazing back at him. In all of his previous fantasies and daydreams, those eyes had been emerald green. When the hell had that changed?

For once, Clark Sawyer didn't know what to do. This made him both uncomfortable, and terrified, because he **had** to know what to do. If he didn't know, who would everyone else go to for help? This was just so confusing. He was straight. Julian was in love with another guy. It couldn't work on so many levels and yet Clark just couldn't get the younger boy out of his head. And then they kissed and every, tiny speck of hope Clark had left dissipated when Julian ran away. The blond hit the back of his head on the wall and let out a choked sob. This was a mess. And he didn't know how to get out. He. Was. Straight. So why had he just kissed another guy? And why had he enjoyed it? And why did he find Julian beautiful in every possible way, at every possible angle? Clark's mind went over and over the kiss, torturing him by replaying it again and again, forcing the blond to watch his actions repeatedly. Clark banged his head again, furious at both himself and the unfairness of it all. He was about to hit his head against the trailer wall again, before he heard knocking on the door of his trailer. Clark wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone at all, and so yelled that he didn't want to talk, before resuming the bashing of his head against the wall. To his surprise, however, Cameron Pike opened his door, brow furrowed in concern, and eyes filled with worry.  
>"Clark, why are you attempting to concuss yourself?" The older man questioned, leaning against the doorframe. Clark groaned.<br>"Because I want to forget. I want to forget, and then leave here and hopefully never come back. Maybe if I knock myself unconscious, I'll fall into some sort of coma, and then we'll both forget. That okay with you?" Perhaps he shouldn't have snapped, Clark reflected. Cameron was only trying to help.  
>"Forget what? What have you done?" Cameron's eyes narrowed a little, before softening when he saw the blond was close to tears. "Clark, you haven't done anything… stupid, right?"<br>Clark laughed, though it was humourless, empty. "Stupid? Beyond stupid, Cam. I- He's going to hate me. Julian… he just… ran off. I don't even know why I-" Clark broke off, voice cracking before letting out a frustrated groan. "I have fucked up."  
>Cameron frowned further, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Clark, what's J done? I can't help you unless y-"<br>"YOU CAN'T HELP ME ANYWAY!" He yelled. It was complete uncharacteristic of the usually collected blond to flip, but it seemed something in him had snapped. "YOU CANNOT HELP ME. Just leave me alone!" Shocked at Clark's outburst, the older actor stood, and made to leave the room, but not before throwing a final glance at the boy on the bed, face in hands, knees to chest. Cameron sighed, and made a mental note to call or text Julian at some point. He didn't know how the youngest of the cast was involved, but surely he could help. Right?

"Uh… I'll have a coffee, please," Julian gave the young waitress his signature grin as he ordered. He was shocked however, when she didn't smile back, and instead rolled her eyes and sighed frustratedly.  
>"Yeah, I guessed that. What type of coffee?" she snapped, and Julian found he didn't like her tone at all. He was faced with two choices; mirror her bitchy attitude, or pile on the sugar-sweetness. The mood he was in allowed his heart to dictate above his head.<br>"Can't you mind-read? Expresso, thanks," Julian mimicked her eye-rolling, and looking down at his bleeping mobile phone. _**1 new message: Cam. **_Julian inwardly groaned. He didn't feel like talking to anyone, considering his mindset. He was confused, still, and now in an awful mood because of the bitchy attitude of some girl in a coffee shop. As the phone bleeped again, Julian relented, and opened the latest one.

_**Answer your phone, J! Message me when you get this. Cam.**_

Rolling his eyes (he seemed to be making a habit of this), he opened the original message from Cameron.

_**J, Clark's not talking to me. Can you talk to him? I don't know what's gone on but can you fix it? He said it's something to do with you. Cam.**_

Julian put his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. "This is a mess," he groaned, though it was muffled by his palms. He desperately didn't want to lose Clark as a friend, but he didn't know if the feelings he felt towards the blond actor were platonic any more. And there was something about the way Clark looked at him; that was the way Julian had always looked at Logan – as though Julian was something forbidden, but something Clark longed for. Julian knew what it was like to be the ignored, unrequited one. He knew it hurt. Knowing it was, in the long run, the right thing to do, he rose from the chair and headed out of the café, leaving $3 on the table as he went. The girl, returning from the serving area, called to him, but he turned, smiled sweetly at her and said; "Keep the change. Learn some manners while you're at it," before heading back to the trailers.

Clark, after yelling at Cameron, had begun to panic a little more. He started to pace the room, angry thoughts and taunting, twisted playbacks of the kiss spinning around his mind. He was clenching his fists so tightly that they were white, and had bitten some of his nails so short that they were bleeding. He'd fucked up. He's ruined everything. What was he thinking? Why would Julian – funny, talented, beautiful Julian – ever even look at _him_ like that? Of course; he wouldn't. Clark was so involved in his own torturous thoughts that he didn't hear the knocking on the door, and didn't realise the rose-haired actor leaning on his doorframe, looking tired and utterly dishevelled.  
>"Clark," Julian murmured, so quietly that he was almost inaudible. However, the blond heard, and his head jolted up instantly. He was shocked, and horrified to see the ex-brunet, and instantaneously reverted back to his out-of-character, defensively angry mode.<br>"What're you doing here?" Clark snapped, not making eye contact with the boy. He couldn't stand to lose himself in those caramel eyes again. It wasn't worth the pain.  
>"I- Cam, he texted me. He's worried, Clark," Julian took a step into the blond's bedroom, knowing full well that he was pushing boundaries and risking his safety.<br>"You didn't even come because of me. That's great, J. You can tell Cam that I'm fine, thanks, on your way out.  
>Julian bit his lip. "No, Clark, we need to ta-"<br>"No. No, we don't. Bye, J."  
>"Clark!" Julian cried out, voice sounding desperate. And maybe it was masochistic of him, to look up, but look up Clark did and damn, he wished he hadn't. There were what looked like tears forming in the corner of Julian's eyes, and Clark instantly felt like the worst person on Earth. His icy outer shell melted a little, and Clark relented slightly.<br>"Fine. We can – " Air quotes. "-talk. But then you're leaving, right? And tomorrow, I'm leaving. I'm not willing to meet halfway or anything."  
>"Thank you," Julian let out a breath Clark hadn't noticed the younger boy had been holding. "Look, Clark, the way you look at me," The blond froze. "It's like the way… it's the look I give to Logan, isn't it?" The blond assumed his eyes gave him away, because Julian had walked closer. "We… I… We could… try, if you…" The former brunet trailed off, looking straight at Clark, eyes asking questions that words could not convey. At this point, Clark came to two options; soften and look weak, or harden the mask and put on an icy cover. It wasn't really a choice.<br>"No. Julian, no. Neither of us want that. You can leave now," Clark looked at the floor, eyes dull, tone emotionless.  
>"Clark, we can try!" The younger boy pleaded, but the blond whipped around and glared at Julian, eyes filled with peppermint fire that burned though the younger actor's heart.<br>"NO! Don't you understand?" Clark yelled. Something snapped, and he lost all calm. "I don't WANT to try! I want you to be happy! And if you being happy involves pain on my part, then so be it! You- you shouldn't HAVE to be in a relationship where it's one-sided! That just hurts more." Clark collapsed into a crumpled heap in a chair near the window.  
>Julian was, for once, speechless. He had so many words he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to apologise for. "I… I don't understand," he managed to choke out. "Clark, I'll leave, just… tell me what you mean."<br>So the blond, exhausted and trying to stop the thoughts threatening to break through his mind's protective boundaries, looked directly at Julian, and whispered; "Do you want him to be happy?" And then Julian understood. So he left Clark alone for the second time in one day. But this time, Julian was the one left broken.


End file.
